It may astound some, but I can actually move around ordinary people without their believing that I have any rigid foreign material up my arse. I do like polysyllables, I admit, but when I do employ sesquipedalian terminology, I always pay the words extra. “Ah, you should see ’em come round me of a Saturday night ... for to get their wages, you know.”
After all, I’m not popping up all over the place gratuitously shouting pedantries, here, in a thread specifically established to improve stories, I’m offering aid.
You have a right, of course, to maintain that fine distinctions are unimportant; and I equally have a right (I hope) to maintain that fine distinctions are often what lie between order and chaos, between peace and war, between belletrism and bellicosity, and between life and death.
In the relatively recent London bombings (wherein, you may remember, some young Englishmen wished to persuade some of their compatriots forcefully that British foreign policy might be improved by some Koranic considerations), I read and saw some contradictory accounts of the conduct of some of the passengers attempting to escape from ruined carriages. Some people reported that there was no panic, just a small amount of understandable confusion, whereas some witnesses who fled from exactly the same sites reported that there was massive chaos and panic. It is logically impossible for a small group of stranded passengers to be in complete panic and yet simultaneously be relatively calm. Now, we all know that eyewitnesses often relate widely diverging accounts of the same situations, specially when the events are traumatic and terrifying, but in this case I believe that the apparent contradictory accounts can be explained by the eyewitnesses' understandable imperfect command of language. Few people (particularly in the immediate aftermath of life-threatening terrors) can readily distinguish between the gradations of disorder from some mild confusion, through turmoil, to tumult, to complete turbulent chaos. My take is that many witnesses had used a poor choice of words when reporting to the assembled news-hounds, and that there was some mild disorder, a little weeping, a few screams, and a small degree of confusion, agitation, and consternation, but no panic. I’m not blaming the victims of the London bombings for being, like most of us, not as articulate as we could be—and this, if you’re still following me, is an example of inadequate vocabulary not of bad grammar—but other people around the world were possibly deceived by differing accounts and misunderstood the course of events and underestimated the courage and tenacity of the victims thereby. One may pardon a man who hears that there was panic in an underground tunnel if he conclude that there must have panic. You may well argue that it matters very little whether people confuse perturbation and turmoil. I think that it matters greatly if people are mislead by inadequate descriptions. The powerful ever use the ignorance of the powerless against them, and knowledge does bring power.
A few years ago (if I may digress on the excesses of journalism for a tick), on the first Martin Luther King Day, I was watching one of the US morning television shows and saw a reporter interview a young schoolchild of fairly dark hue; he asked what Dr. King taught. The child answered that Dr. King wanted black children to be able to go to black schools and for white children to go to white schools. This travesty of King’s message was allowed to go unchallenged. No challege from the interviewer. None from the teacher nearby. No correction from the presenters. For all I know, the young schoolgirl grew up with similar distortions of truth corrupting her entire world view.
Now, bringing all this back to the issue at hand, namely the avoidable errors which can be found in the stories of this site, many authors are publishing stories without even checking the spelling. Too many stories, which might be very entertaining for all I know, are presented with all sorts of preventable mistakes which could be removed by a little judicious proof-reading. Even a spell-checking program, though, won’t correct a hastily written form instead of a from, a cook instead of a cock, a sad instead of a said, or cat balls from cut bulls.
As much as I wish that grammar and logic were given more attention in schools, I do realise that even fairly well-educated people can get by in life perfectly well without knowing the parts of speech, or when to use a relative adverb, or how to construct an argument without fallacies; but, when it comes to presenting a story which your readers will read with pleasure and profit, it is always better to have it proof-read. If a story be worth presenting to the world, it is worth reflecting beforehand, is this as good as I can make it (or as good as it needs to be) or could it be improved?
Unregistered (imported) wrote: Tue May 27, 2008 7:41 pm
No, he wrote "Homo sum, humani nil a me alienum puto" and the verb puto is different from the verb sum which requires an ethical dative Gloria (nom. sg) in excelsis (abl pl) Deo (dat sg). And Terence wasn't a native speaker anyway. Seneca "Nihil humanum alienum mihi est" was.
Huh? Terence was born in Carthage; Seneca was born in Corduba. Since when has being a native speaker been the criterion denoting literary merit?
Nihil and nil are the same. The case of Deo, above, is the Dative of Advantage or Disadvantage.
From E.C. Woodcock’s New Latin Syntax (1964, p. 67):
The Ethic Dative
When the dative of a pronoun is used very loosely in the syntax of the sentence to indicate a person who regards, or who may be expected to regard the action with interest, it is called the Ethic Dative.; cf. ‘Come knock me at that door’, where ‘me’ is almost equivalent to ‘Please!’ or ‘I beg you’. The usage is esentially colloquial.